Point of View
by Emmithar
Summary: Greg’s thoughts as he balances between life and death after something goes horribly wrong at a routine crime scene. POV
1. Default Chapter

**Point of View**

**By: **Emmithar

**Rating: **K+

**Summary: **Greg's thoughts as he balances between life and death after something goes horribly wrong at a routine crime scene. POV

**A/N: **This is my first story done in first person, so it is not my best writing style. It is a bit odd, but read all the way through, and yeah…review on your way out.

* * *

**Chapter One: When it Started**

I'm not sure how it all happened. That is how I would answer if you asked me. But if you asked me _when_ it started, I would be able to tell you. Being here, I have been given nothing but time to think it over. If you had asked me sooner, than I would have said it all started when we walked into that house. Yet I realize that it started sooner than that, much sooner. If anything, it all started after the lab explosion.

Yes, I know that sounds ridiculous, and perhaps in some sense it is. To blame one accident for another, when they have no relevance to each other. The chaos theory; I've heard Grissom talk about it before, a few years back now. But would it really count in this matter? After all, the explosion in the lab is the reasoning for my actions, but it is not responsible for the effects of here and now.

Though I never would admit it to anyone, the explosion in the DNA lab terrified me, plain and simple. I never was the same person after that, even though I tried to be. And for a while, it worked. Then after Grissom found out by chance, I really didn't care anymore. My mood changed, became more settle. In some sense, you can say I grew up, that I finally became one with the world of adults. It was a slow and settle change, but it was still there. Surprisingly no one mentioned anything about it.

Being in the hospital for those two weeks had given me a lot of time to think. To really think over my life, to try and find out where I was going. I loved science; that much was obvious. I had been into science since I was little, and I knew that I would always be. And yet, my current job then didn't seem to satisfy my need to learn.

I had been thinking for a while about moving out into the field, but I never really brought the idea up until later. I was mostly afraid that I would be mocked, laughed at, ridiculed even. Las Vegas already had the best of the best criminalists, why then, would they want another, who in fact would only be a wannabe? They had more important things to do with their time than baby-sit a lab tech who wanted to get out into the field.

But the lab explosion changed all of that. After Grissom found out how much it had affected me, he told me that if I need to talk, he would be around. That meant more than I could actually explain in words. After a long mental dispute, with none other than myself, I finally took up on Grissom's offer. Although it was for a different reason entirely.

I wasn't able to handle the lab anymore. Every day was a struggle to make my way into the lab. Every night I would wake up, or in my case, every day I would wake up from the nightmares that plagued my dreams. Everything seemed so real that sometimes when I awoke, I expected to find myself in the hospital. After a while I knew that something had to be done about it. It had been nearly a week since Grissom had last talked to me. He had been in and out of work due to his sudden surgery. By the time he returned full time, I had made up my mind.

I had waited until the end of shift to see him; he was working away steadily in his office, catching up on all the paperwork he had missed during his absence. Knocking on his door, I waited for him to acknowledge me before coming in. It was an odd gesture for me, I knew. Normally I would invite myself in, but now I had taken on a very different attitude.

I had always liked Grissom's office. It was comforting, in a bizarre sort of way. There were so many things to look at, so many things to see. The room itself stood apart on its own, and yet modeled the Grissom we all knew so well. I was hesitant to speak up at first, but quickly overcame the feeling.

I had explained to him that I wanted to move out into the field, and asked how possible that was. Grissom had stopped filling out the paperwork then, glancing up at me as he placed his pen down. Taking off his glasses he watched me closely.

_Moving out in the field means a pay cut, _he reminded me. _It means longer hours, more dedication and it is a more stressing job._

I nodded, confirming that I knew all that already. That I was willing to take the challenge on. I explained to him that I was looking forward to a change, that DNA was no longer enough of a challenge for me. He nodded at my explanation, although his gaze told me he knew there was something else to it.

From there he went on to explain all the aspects of the job. I would have to be able to work both on the field, and in the lab. I had to be present for various autopsies, and needed to be ready at a moments notice, whether it be at three in the afternoon, or at three in the morning. I sat there and listened to him ramble on, already knowing full well of my decision.

When he had finally finished everything, I told him that I was still interested. Seemingly satisfied he nodded, pointing over his shoulder to his filing cabinets, letting me know there was an application for the job inside. I could only smile, due the simple fact that all of this was possible. It was actually possible. What he said next however, dashed my hopes.

As I pulled the application free of the file he turned around in his chair to face me. The only downfall was that there wasn't a position available. He must have seen the disappointment in my face, because he held his hand up then, motioning for me to be silent as he continued on.

He said that it was actually a good thing. How exactly, I wasn't sure. How could not having an open position be a good thing? But his explanation cleared things up quickly. I would be able to get a head start on things. As soon as I turned in my finished application, I would be able to start helping on cases every so often.

He let me know in advanced that most of it would be little stuff, the stuff no one else wanted to do. At that point, I didn't really care, but as time passed I wished I had said at least something. As I left his office, he gave me a small reminder to have it in by Friday. I turned it in the next day.

After that my nightmares diminished. They were still present from time to time, but for the most part I slept soundly, relaxed by the simple encouraging thought. Things started to look up back at work once again as well. Instead of the laughter and mockery I had expected from the others, I received small encouragements from them. It made things go much easier.

As expected, Hodges was the only one who really thought my idea laughable. But only for a short time when he found that no one else shared his thoughts. I think he was jealous, for some part, that he had not come up with the idea himself.

As Grissom had promised, I worked on and off several different cases. The one I remember most distinctively is the one I worked with Catherine, on the young model that had disappeared. Thinking about it now, I would have more in likely told Catherine no in the first place, when she asked me if I wanted to work the case.

I hadn't known at that time that both Nick and Sara had fought for that case for themselves. And it took me even longer to realize how big of a case it was. Not only was Catherine watching my every move like a hawk, but I noticed that others were too. Grissom was keeping an eye on my progress, as well as Nick and Sara, although all three avoided me as much as possible.

It wasn't really all that fair, on my part. Catherine had asked if I had wanted to work the case, not if I wanted to be dragged in to a bitter fight between her and Nick and Sara. After all, they were my friends; I at least had the right to know they would be sour at me if I did help.

I was the most uncomfortable during that time. Catherine was wonderful instructor, but she was the only one I had to confide in during that time. Grissom, as well as the others kept their distance, while I heard the rumors float around that scoffed at the idea of trainee working on a career case. I said nothing to Catherine about it, I trusted her enough that if anything did happen, she would cover for me. As I said before, if I had known how big it was going to be, then I would have said no.

I can still remember that night, coming into work and finding the memo in my locker. The CSI field promotion had been disregarded, and in its place, was an opening for a new field agent. I honestly didn't know what to say. I was beyond being thrilled, but at the same time my thoughts drifted to Nick and Sara. Both had worked incredible hard for the promotion, and I had supported both of them, all the while secretly hoping that Sara would get it, and yet somehow knowing that Nick would be the victor in the end.

This sudden change in decision was overwhelming, if in the least bit. All I could think of at that moment was of Nick and Sara. Would they be angry with me now? With all the work they had put in now gone to nothing, and here I was, still learning the tricks of the trade and I was well on my way to my own promotion.

Feeling sick and thrilled all at the same time I put the memo back in my locker, and got busy with work. It was, however, a nice gesture for the both of them to stop in separately and congratulate me on the opening. I smiled in return, and nodded at their good lucks, even though I could tell that both were still upset about losing the promotion.

And so I became a field agent. I began working fully with Grissom, and I found myself tense once again. Grissom was very keen on noticing things. I felt as though every mistake I made stood out like black bold letters against white paper. I started making stupid mistakes, mistakes I normally wouldn't make, when working under him.

Still, I passed my proficiency test. How exactly, I wasn't sure. But with everyone there, patting me on the back, and giving me high fives I knew then that I had. And I had never felt more giddy than at that moment. I was like a little kid, lost in a candy store. Then, after all of that, I started working more with Sara, rather than Grissom.

It was a pleasant change. I had always been able to get along with Sara well enough. I felt as though a barrier had been uplifted, allowing me more freedom to roam about. And with each passing case I obtained more and more knowledge of the job itself. I was glad of the chance I had taken, and there were times I wondered how I used to be able to stand working in the tiny DNA lab all night, every night, and sometimes during the day.

This particular shift though, shortly after arriving, is what stands out more than the rest. After dropping off my stuff in my locker, I met Sara in the hallway, and we were working our way to the garage when Grissom met us halfway there. We had been working the last week now on a double homicide, and after several days of dead ends, we had gotten in a call of an abandoned car that matched our victims. With a lead after all this time, both of us were anxious to start processing it. What we didn't expect was Grissom's orders then.

It was outrages, to be honest. Grissom handed us a new file folder, informing us we had a new case. Looking over Sara's shoulder I braced myself for the explosion that would come from Sara, and I wasn't disappointed.

"A Breaking and Entering?" Sara asked sharply, looking up at him. I said nothing, hanging back, my hands resting in my pockets as Sara's rants continued. "You're pulling us off a double homicide to check out a B&E?"

"Greg needs the experience," Grissom pointed out, looking up at me. I only shrugged him off, looking back down to the folder. I agreed with Sara, but I wasn't about to argue with my boss.

"Then have him go," Sara argued, "We just got a new lead."

It was ridiculous. I was only level one CSI, whereas Nick and Sara were level three, and still Grissom was reluctant about letting them pull a solo. Even if it was only a B&E, I was still only a level one.

"I'm having Sofia take over," Grissom told her, already knowing she didn't like that idea.

I had expected Sara to argue longer. I had expected her to point out to Grissom that this was our case, that I could get the experience later. So I was astonished when Sara gave in.

"Get your case," she told me quietly, already heading the opposite direction. I followed with sigh, exchanging a brief look with Grissom.

So now you can see that it all started after the lab explosion. If the lab hadn't exploded, I wouldn't have moved out into the field, and we wouldn't be in this mess. What mess, you ask? Well, I'm getting there, it isn't pretty, and I'm not going anywhere soon, so just let me tell the story right the first time. I may not get a second chance.

**TBC**


	2. One Last Chance

**Chapter Two: One Last Chance**

The house wasn't that far away, only about an hour's drive from the lab. It was away from the city and the noisy neighborhoods, but still were nice homes. Secluded, and lots of money, two enticing factors that would invite any thief to take a shot of swiping something.

There was an officer outside the house, leaning against his car, an irate look settled on his face as we pulled up. The cool night air brushed past me as I stepped out, pulling my case from the back seat. Sara was already talking the officer, and I could only catch bits and pieces of what was said, but I could tell by the strain in both their voices that it wasn't good.

"I have been waiting here for three hours," he snapped as I walked up. I hardly paid any attention to him, focusing on the surroundings instead.

"You would think with a house as nice as this the owners could afford some lights out here," I pointed out, glancing at Sara who nodded in return. As of now, only the lights from the cop car, and a dim porch light were the only sources of light we had. Aside from our flashlights, but those didn't count.

"When did the break in occur exactly?" Sara asked the officer, who shrugged, his tone still snappy.

"How should I know? I got a call in about three hours ago that there was something suspicious going on, I checked it out."

"Define suspicious, would you please?" Sara asked, jotting down notes on a small pad. She was using the headlights in order to see.

"Someone was sneaking around, looking into windows. The call I received said they saw someone messing around with the house, and the folks are gone. I checked it out, and the front door was busted open. You happy? I'm off duty, I don't have to sit around here and baby-sit you two."

I looked from the officer to Sara, and then back again. She nodded, closing the pad as she stood up. "Is the scene clear?"

He nodded, rolling his eyes. "Yes, it's clear. Can I go now?"

"Call for another officer, will you?" she gave him a smile as she turned away.

The officer shrugged his shoulder, muttering under his breath as he climbed into the car. When I glanced back up Sara was already making her way down the walkway, towards the house and I had to run in order to catch up with her. Her flashlight skimmed the ground as she took careful steps, and I followed her lead, having to pause a moment as I fished the flashlight from my vest pocket.

"Front door is busted clean open," Sara called back to me, walking up the stairs, taking one step at a time. "Why didn't the alarm sound?"

I shrugged, offering up the only excuse I could think of at that time. "Maybe they don't have one."

"A house this nice," she shook her head, "Doesn't seem right," she knelt down to examine the door, before standing once again. I called out to her as she started her way inside.

"Shouldn't we wait for the officer to arrive?" I asked, watching her.

"Scene's been cleared, it's only a B&E. I just want to get this over with," Sara told me, disappearing the rest of the way inside. I just shook my head as I too, climbed the stairs.

Now, maybe that was where it all started, if we had waited, none of this would have happened. You've heard of the phrase 'wrong time, wrong place', or so I assume. That much was true for us.

Still, I am not sure how it all happened. I know we had been there for some time; Sara was checking things over in the den, while I double-checked the kitchen. Nothing seemed to be missing, but we wouldn't know for sure until we were able to talk with homeowners. I remember shaking my head, as I closed the last cabinet drawer, confused by everything.

It's funny, how the mind remembers so many details about a certain event, and yet nothing about another. Though I do remember her screaming. In all the years I've known Sara, I have never heard her scream before. Even if I had set aside the time to picture in my mind what her scream would sound like, it wouldn't even have come close to the high-pitched shriek she had let out.

I remember just standing there, in the large kitchen, next to homemade bar, unable to move at first. Then, when she cried out again, calling my name and crying out for help, I found myself at the open doorway. I don't know how I got there; my legs were shaking so badly I had to lean against the doorframe to support myself. What I saw then, was something that will never leave my mind.

She was doubled over, one hand clasped on the man's forearm, the other wrapped around her stomach, her face clenched tightly in pain. Blood was beginning to seep from around the hilt of the knife that was buried deep into her side, slowly pooling on the floor underneath her as she feel to her knees.

I think I called her name, I must have, because the man turned to me, his eyes wide as he realized Sara wasn't alone. Before I could regain my senses, he was on top of me. Being twice my size, it wasn't that hard to accomplish, especially given the fact I was still in shock.

I don't know how long I fought him for, but it wasn't for long. He had managed to drive a few blows to my head, rendering me nearly unconscious. I say nearly because I still felt the cold steal as it tore through my flesh. His eyes were still fearful, as if he hadn't wanted to hurt us, but felt as though he had no choice. I closed my eyes as he twisted the blade, pulling it back out in one swift motion. I let out a pained cry at the motion, as he backed off of me quickly.

He left us there, just like that. It was all I remember, and it is all I can tell you now. I am still alive, lying on my back, my head against the wall. I know that I am still alive, the pain is excruciating, and I can feel the warmth of my own blood as it runs over my fingers, a simple sign that my heart is still beating. The only thing that's keeping me alive, and yet slowly killing me at the same time.

Not that it matters, Sara is dead. I can see her from where I am. From the corner of my eye. It hurts too much to move, even the slight motion of turning my head causes me pain and my stomach threatens to heave at the slightest movement. Not that I always wanted to bleed to death, but chocking on my own vomit wasn't very appealing either.

I can see her face easily enough. Her eyes closed, unmoving. She hadn't moved since she had fallen, and was lying at an awkward angle. I bite back a sob as I close my eyes. It would be several hours before anyone even thought about checking in on us. The officer probably never called in for backup, so as far as I was considered, there was no hope.

I am trembling lightly; I have noticed this for some time now, as I run my tongue over my dry lips. I cough a few separate times, all the while squashing down the nauseated feeling that threatens in the pit of my stomach.

They say that when you die, you see your life before you finally let go. Whether it is true or not, I don't know. I hadn't exactly seen my life story yet, even though I knew that death was not far in coming. All I could really think of was Sara, and the rest of the team. How long would be here before they found us, and how would they handle our deaths?

My head was hurting so much that I didn't recognize the sound at first. It repeated itself several times before stopping, and then there was a lapse of a few minutes before it repeated itself once again. Opening my eyes I could see the soft lights flashing in the darkness, and I winced as I turned my head towards it.

I stared at the small object, as if doing so would quiet the annoyance, before my senses kicked in. It was my phone, and it was ringing. Someone was trying to get a hold of me. I felt like laughing and crying at the same time. The simple thought that they were looking for me was wonderful.

However, the phone was in the middle of the room, and I was next to the wall. I must have lost it during the struggle. In my mind, it was already impossible. I squeezed my eyes shut as the call ended, the ringing still reverberating in my head, pulsating in time with my throbbing headache.

When I opened my eyes, all I could see was that phone, knowing that at the moment, it was my only chance of survival, if I had one at all. I reached down with one hand, the other still pressed against my torn flesh as I eased myself onto my side. I squeezed my eyes shut as several waves of pain raced down through my body, then back up again. After what seemed like several minutes of agonizing pain, I felt the gravity take over as the weight of my body became uneven, and I found myself on my stomach.

Taking in a few, gasping breaths, I let my head drop against the rough texture of the carpet, noting that I had to be running a fever, because the carpet felt cool against my heated skin. When the pain had passed enough, and I no longer felt sick, I moved once again, in the same manner.

I don't know how long it took; I have no real perception of time at the moment. My head was pounding, and my vision swam as I reached out for the phone shakily, fresh blood dripping off my fingers onto the white carpet below. I could only hope the home owners wouldn't be too upset at all the blood that was left behind.

Grasping the phone I brought it back towards my face, flipping the top open clumsily as I read the missed calls. Grissom was the one who had called, both times. I pressed the redial button, leaving behind a bloody print as I brought the phone up to my ear, praying that I would be able to stay awake long enough to tell him.

The ringing tone was sharp against my ear. Once…twice…three times. I closed my eyes, pressing my lips together tightly as my head pounded violently. Apparently it hadn't liked the moving I had done.

"Grissom."

His voice barely cut through all the pain, but I could hear him just the same. I opened my mouth to say something, to say anything, but all that came out was a choked sob. I didn't think he had heard me, didn't think it was enough, and I could no longer understand what he was saying to me, but I could tell from the tone of his voice he had heard.

I gripped the phone tightly in my hand, afraid to let go as the tears ran down my face as I opened my mouth one last time. _"Help…"_

**TBC…**


	3. Rescue

**Sighs, what are the odds of this happening? The CSI finale is on the 19th, something I've been looking forward to a while now. Even though I hate to see the season end, it means that the DVD will be out soon. **

**Anyways, not only is the finale air on the 19th, it is also the opening day for Revenge of the Sith, and for a Star Wars fan like me, I've been waiting quite a long while for this movie. And it doesn't help seeing the ultimate preview at the theaters last night while waiting for Hitchhikers Guide to start. **

**So I figured I'd wait to the weekend to see it, then come to find out that I can't and I won't be able to see it for about a week unless I go on the 19th. So I decided to wait, after all, who knows when they are showing the CSI finale rerun again, or if they even will.**

**Now that I have everything planned out, I find out yesterday that the Annual Band Awards Banquet, is none other than…yeah, you guessed it, the 19th. I honestly can't believe it. I must be cursed or something. The Awards Banquet is the one time out of the entire year that I will be able to see all my friends again, now that I'm out of high school and all, and it's a pretty big event, so I can't exactly miss it. Yeah I know I can tape it, and then if the event ends early, I have to force myself not to watch the last ten minutes of it, because it would ruin everything, and would have to wait until the weekend to watch it. And since I've never preprogrammed a VCR to start timing at a certain time, who knows what will happen?**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Rescue**

I remember the hands. I'm not sure why; perhaps it was because they were so cold. It felt wonderful against my heated flesh, and part of me wished that they would never leave. Then the pain that filled my body as I was turned over to my back caused me to cry out, as I tried to push them away.

"It's okay," I heard the voice say, a single hand holding both of mine down until I gave up the struggles. Then the hand returned, several fingers pressing against my neck, resting there.

"Vitals are weak," the voice said again, and the hand left my neck and came to rest on my forehead, brushing back my short hair.

"Greg, can you hear me?"

I opened my eyes a crack, watching him above me, squinting as he shone a light in my eyes. I didn't answer him, I wasn't quite too sure what was going on yet. His attention turned down towards my stomach, where my hand was sill pressed against the stab wound. I protested slightly as he pulled it away, examining it.

"This isn't good Brass, where the hell are those paramedics?"

A second voice came from the other side of the room, but I couldn't hear him. "They should be here in a few minutes."

Above me, Grissom sighed, pulling off his jacket. "We may not have a few minutes," he warned. I closed my eyes, my breathing hitching as I coughed. I could still hear Grissom moving above me, but what I didn't expect was the intense pressure over the wound.

I let out a sharp cry, arching slightly as Grissom placed a hand on my shoulder, holding me down. He reassured me several times that everything was going to be okay, but I had a hard time believing that.

With my eyes still closed I moaned quietly. "It hurts…"

"I know," Grissom agreed with me, his hand was resting on my forehead again. "I know it does, but you've got to stick with me, okay?"

Apparently he wasn't happy with my lack of response, because he started to shake me gently when I didn't answer. I groaned against the motion, opening my eyes just enough so that I could see him clearly.

"Talk to me Greg, tell me what happened," he was leaning over me, studying me. I blinked a few times, as if trying to understand the question.

"I couldn't do anything," I whispered, closing my eyes again. The lights were hurting them, enhancing my headache.

"Who did this Greg," Grissom asked, his voice louder than I would have liked. I winced against the sound, shaking my head as I answered.

Then he was shaking me again, slapping the side of my face lightly, and talking to me. I blinked a few times as I struggled to focus on my surroundings. I couldn't make out what he was saying at first.

"Greg? Come on Greg, open your eyes, look at me."

I did as he asked, my mouth hanging open as I tried to catch my breath. I couldn't understand why he was so worried, but the look soon passed as he smiled down at me.

"Don't close your eyes, you need to stay with me."

"Tired…"

I muttered lightly, my eyes still open. I was beyond tired now, and all I wanted to do was to sleep.

"I know you are, but you can't sleep yet. You need tell me what happened, can you do that?"

"Later…"

I started to close my eyes again, but he slapped the side of my face lightly, provoking me to keep them open.

"Tell me about something else then," he ordered.

I only stared up at him, blinking. Why couldn't he just let me sleep? I could tell him everything later, it wasn't like he needed to know right now did he? I let out a sigh, closing my eyes.

"You know, I think I saw Nick getting into your coffee back at the lab," he said then, prompting me to open my eyes.

"He better not," I muttered, barely aware of how weak my voice was. It was then sirens filled the air, and Grissom above me looked out towards the front. His hand was still resting on my forehead.

"Okay Greg, the paramedics are here, they're going to get you to the hospital, just remember I'm not too far away if you need anything. You're going to be just fine," he finished saying quickly as he backed away. I closed my eyes in response as the medics moved in, prodding and poking as they began to work. I can honestly say I don't remember what happened during that time.

* * *

There were sounds around me, it was what woke me up. I hadn't realized then how deep of a sleep I had been in. I kept my eyes closed at first, letting the smell and the sounds fall in place around me, trying to decipher where I was, and what was going on. I was sore, the pain centered around my lower stomach.

I risked opening my eyes slowly, blinking in the pale light. I was surprised to find that I wasn't alone, seeing that Catherine, Nick, Warrick and Grissom were sitting off to the side talking quietly. None of them had seen that I was awake yet, and I made no move to alert them to my presence. At the moment, I just needed to think, needed to remember. Then everything sunk in, a bitter knowledge. I was in the hospital now, and obviously I wasn't in any immediate danger. But along with that thought came the simple reminder that Sara was dead.

It was then that Catherine's eyes locked with mine, and her lips turned up in a smile. "Well," she said quietly, "It's about time you decided to join the living."

I tilted my head up further against the pillow, staring straight ahead as the others turned towards me, bombarding me with questions. I doubt I heard any of them, and after a few minutes they all quieted down, obliviously understanding that I wasn't going to answer any of them.

It was then I realized they had grown quiet not because of that reason, but instead because the nurse had entered the room, shooing everyone out. The door hadn't latched shut, and I was still able to hear them quite easily as the nurse checked me over.

"What's wrong with him?" I could distinguish Nick's voice easily enough apart from the others. "They said if he made it through the night he'd be okay."

"Greg's been through a lot," I heard Grissom respond, "He's probably still in a bit of a shock, that with all the medication they have him on it may take a few days until he's back to himself."

"Why wasn't there an officer on the scene?" Warrick demanded. I felt sorry for him, I didn't know all the details of his past, but I knew that he was particular to this short of thing.

"Brass is already on it, we can't stay much longer here, we need to find who's responsible for all of this. Greg wasn't able to tell me very much."

"I'll stay," Catherine offered, "I'll call if anything comes up. I'm just worried about Greg right now, I only hope that he's going to be okay."

"He will," Grissom reassured everyone. "In a few days, Greg will be back to normal."

The conversation was cut off as the nurse shut the door all the way, dimming the lights as she left. I could just hear her say that I needed my rest before the door latched. Letting out a sigh, I brought the sheet up under my chin, closing my eyes. I hated hospitals, they made me feel so overwhelmed, so alone. All I could think of then was the last thing Grissom had said. _In a few days, Greg will be back to normal._

What exactly was normal anyway? I bit my lip, struggling against my emotions as they threatened to break, a single tear running down my cheek. Would I ever be normal again? Or was that just once upon a time now?

**TBC**

**Early R2R, since I've been really horrible at them. First off, a major thanks to all the wonderful comments. I know I say this all the time, but they are really what motivates me to get the next chapter up quicker. **

**Lizzy**** Sidle-**

Grissom got there, and in good time. He doesn't exactly have a boat handy so a river of tears would have been a bad thing. I really am not evil…close, but not quite.

**Tripp3235-**

I'm glad you are intrigued. This is my first story written in first person, so it is really different for me to do. It takes a little longer to write chapters this way then it does with third person view.

**Sillie****-**

No, that would be kind of a freaky call to get. Especially if you didn't have caller ID.

**Asaylia****-**

The officer is an idiot, and a jerk. But he fits the part, I don't want to say too much because I may bring him in a bit later in the story.

**Jenny70529**

Do I like leaving you in tense situations? Hmm…I like keeping my readers on the edge of their seat. This is your favorite story so far? You sure about that:D

I'm not a fan of first person either, it limits your writing so much, whereas third person view gives you the opportunity to see through everyone's eyes, and really understand how they are feeling. First person is harder to write, in my opinion.

And yes, being inside Greg's head is a rather nice place, lol. And thanks for the comment!

**Unlikely-to-bear-it-**

Uh…I don't think it's against the law…-checks through own law books- uh…:D

And Greg's not dead, so I'm okay for now. And yeah, Greg's not in the best of shape.

**Emily-**

Doodling dead Greg's on your notebook? That's kind of creepy. And I'm not evil, no, but I'm getting there.

**LuvinNickyStokes-**

I have escalated! Cool…wait, is that a good thing or a bad thing? The first chapter I had a lot of time to think about, about ten hours, I came up with it during work. One of the few things I enjoy about my job, it doesn't take a lot of concentration, so your mind can easily wander from time to time. And there is some Sara in this one, as I'm certain you can tell by now.

**wdbydoglvr-**

They never said why he chilled out in the fourth season. Some people said the lab explosion, others said it was because he wanted to move out in the field, so he became more serious in order to prove to Grissom that he could handle the job. I myself think that it's a bit of both, because now in the later episodes in the fifth season, he's seems to be a little more like his old self. But that's only my opinion.

**CatStokes-**

Why would I leave a story hanging like that? Hmm….because I can? Lol, honestly, I look for places to end the chapters that keeps the readers wanting to come back to find out what happens.

**Mellaithwen-**

I have way to many ideas…and so little time to write. Oh well, I'll get it done eventually, right?


	4. Rationalization

**Chapter Four: Rationalization **

I was alive; fortunate some would say. If I hadn't reached the phone, I would be dead. I didn't need anyone to tell me that. It is so easy to say if, the thoughts of an alternative reality just within your grasp is overwhelming sometimes. You often find yourself wondering back to earlier times, knowing that if you had done something differently, than you could have changed something.

If I hadn't gone into the field, I would not have had a reasoning to go the house. Even if Sara still went, she would have been with someone else, someone who would have been able to protect her better. If I had done something instead of just watched, if I had taken the room, and left Sara with kitchen. If we had waited for another officer to come.

If is such an easy word to say. Because it doesn't matter how many times you say it, you can't go back, you can't change time. That's the way of life, there is only one direction, and that is forward. The hard part, is finding how to get there.

Time then was endless for me. I lost track of the hours, of the days I spent in the hospital. I was barely aware of what went on around me. I did not recognize nor remember the name of the nurse that tended to me, and I did not respond to treatment, at least not emotionally. I had become wrapped up in my own thoughts, reality then being too painful for me to face.

It wasn't healthy, to care for a person so much that it hurt, only to watch them fade away in front of you, and knowing that you aren't strong enough to help them. And the simple knowledge that she wouldn't be there when I woke up hurt even more.

Catherine spent those days by my bedside; come to think of it, I doubt she even left. I was awake more then she was even aware of, but I never said anything to her. Whenever she did talk with me, I gave quiet responses, letting her do most of the talking. I couldn't just yet, I wasn't ready.

The pain from the stab wound subsided, but the pain inside did not. It felt as though I would carry the burden for the rest of forever. I could not help but feel guilty for what had happened to Sara. There were times during my stay there that I felt as though I didn't deserve to live, and I found myself praying several times that they would just let me go. I even found myself thinking of asking them one time, but quickly dismissed the thought. I couldn't do that to everyone, just so I could wallow in my own self-pity.

That night woke me up to a pounding headache. Even after all this time of being in the hospital, sleeping on and off, I still found myself awake during the night. That was the hardest part of it all. Catherine was always there at night, and there wasn't very much else that went on. This left me two choices, to either listen to Catherine talk, or feign sleep and become lost in my own world.

It was different this time, because she wasn't there. Her stuff was sitting on the blue chairs, but that was all. I closed my eyes, coughing as I pulled a pillow to my chest, wrapping my arms around it. Part of me wanted to go home, but the doctors hadn't been willing to let me go yet. On the other hand, I was afraid to go home. Going home meant that I would resume my life as it was before, then I would go back to work, and she wouldn't be there. As long as I was in here, I could pretend that it was all just a dream.

I opened my eyes a crack as I heard Catherine then, talking to someone just outside the door. It wasn't that hard to hear her, the walls in here are thin. I assumed she was on the phone, because it was only her voice I heard.

I gathered she was talking about me, I heard her tell whoever it was that the doctors had inserted another IV today, and that I wasn't eating or drinking anymore. I truly hadn't realized; hunger and thirst haven't really been present. She finished off by saying 'maybe in a few days' before ending the call.

She walked in the room then, and had already caught sight of my open eyes before I was able to close them. I hadn't even tried, so instead I let my gaze follow her as she sat down next to me.

Her smile was light, as she leaned forward, keeping her voice low as to not wake any other patients. "How you feeling?"

I wanted to laugh, wanted to scoff. How was I feeling? Horrid wouldn't even begin to describe it. I wanted to point this out to her; I wanted to complain that I was hurting so badly that I never felt as if I would get better. Instead I found myself shrugging as I looked away. I was close to crying then, and the last thing I wanted was to give her another reason to pity me.

"Everyone's been worried about you," she told me. It was the same thing she told me every night now. "Nick stopped by earlier today to see you, you were asleep though."

I didn't say anything. I hadn't been asleep when he came by. I didn't let them know that I was listening to them as they talked, listening as they joked lightly. How could they do something like that? I was hurting only a few feet away and Nick had actually had the nerve to crack a few jokes.

Catherine kept on talking; it was something she did, either for a distraction for me or herself, maybe both. Perhaps she was just enticing me to talk, but for whatever reason it was starting to get on my nerves, but I didn't have the heart to tell her so.

"Warrick says he might come by tomorrow if he gets off shift early enough. Sara's been asking about you too."

I glanced up at her quickly, unable to say anything at first. My heart was pounding quickly as I registered her words. Why would she say something like that? Did she assume that it was funny, or was she just so desperate to get me to talk?

"Sara's dead," I told her flatly, surprised at how rough my voice sounded. That and the burning pain that followed through my throat.

She watched me for a moment, her mouth hanging open slightly. "What?"

"He killed her," I rasped heavily, even closer to losing it now than I had been before. "I saw him kill her."

"Oh God Greg," Catherine was shaking her head, a hand held up to her brow. "Is this why you've been like this? Because you think she's dead?"

I only blinked in response. Even if I had wanted to say something I wouldn't have had the chance.

"Sara's alive Greg, and in a hell of a lot better shape than you are. We've been doing everything we can to pull you through this, and you just keep pulling away. Pull yourself together Greg, you can beat this, and we'll be here to help you, but you have to do your part."

I had hardly heard her lecture, though I knew she was angry with me. Her tone said plenty enough, I had no need to hear the words inside. My eyes locked with hers then as she grew silent. There were tears in her eyes and if was for the first time that I saw how much it was affecting her.

"I want to see her," I told her, my stomach clenching as she shook her head slowly.

"I don't know if you can," she answered.

"I want to see her," I said again. I wasn't willing to give up so easily. Part of me still screamed that this was some cruel dream that I would wake up from any moment. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, but I needed to Sara, I needed to see her with my own eyes, needed to touch her, to give myself tangible proof that she was still here.

Catherine let out a sigh, "I'll see what I can do," she told me quietly. "I can't make any promises. It's in the middle of the night, and there is no way anyone is dragging you up three flights to see someone. I don't know if Sara is even awake now, but I'll check it out."

She left after that, and was gone for a long time. Much longer than I would have liked. I could tell that the medication was kicking in again; it was getting harder to keep my eyes open. But I didn't want to miss her; if she came I wanted to be awake. I kept my eyes glued on the doorframe, but I could slowly feel myself slip into the darkness. I could only pray that fate wasn't playing a cruel trick on me as I finally gave into the impending sleep.

**TBC…**


	5. Second Chance

**Chapter Five: Second Chance**

I don't know how long I slept, but I was afraid to wake up. Afraid that it all really had been a dream, or the simple fact I had wanted it so much I had convinced myself it was real. Now I no longer knew, and when I opened my eyes I wasn't surprised to find the room empty.

I couldn't suppress the sigh that came forth, but I didn't care. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling as my mind raced, the thoughts never ceasing. I didn't know how long I had been here, or how much longer I was going to be here. Most of all, I didn't know what was going to happen when I got out of here.

I glanced up at the sound of footsteps, seeing Catherine walk in. It was a bitter feeling, when I had first opened my eyes I hadn't wanted to be alone, yet now that she was here, I wasn't sure if I wanted company or not.

"Good, you're up," she said, her voice light as she reached the table next to the bed. She was moving several containers around on the small surface, mixing various liquids together.

"What are you doing?" I asked finally, the only conclusion I was able to muster was that she was so determined to stay by my side she had brought her work to the hospital.

"You can see Sara on one condition," she answered, glancing over at me. I could feel my breath catch. So it wasn't a dream after all, it was true, Sara was really alive. I nodded, up to doing anything that would enable me to see her.

"You need to eat first."

I frowned, folding my arms as I continued to watch her. "Okay, in that case I'll have a Big Mac and fries, a Sprite, no salt on the fries though."

I heard her laugh, short and crisp as she shook her head. "Sorry, the hospital's short on Big Macs," her expression changed though after seeing my face. "Oh don't worry," she said quickly, "You get to have some nice vitamin enriched supplements."

She held up the finished container for me to see and if it was possible, my frown got even larger. "It looks like decapitated slugs," I stated quietly, my stomach already turning. Still I was rewarded with a grimace from Catherine who held it a little further from her face.

"Its banana flavored," she encouraged me lightly, pouring the thick liquid into a small cup.

"Great," I muttered in response, "Banana slugs…you know I've actually liked a banana slug once, it was an initiation at a summer camp. Makes your entire tongue go numb."

"Really?" she asked, handing the cup to me. "Hopefully it's not the same one Lindsey's at, anyways, drink up, it'll taste better than you think."

"Right," I scoffed, bringing the rim of the cup under my nose as I inhaled deeply. "It doesn't smell very good," I made a face as I pulled the cup away.

"That's okay, I can let Sara know she can take a rain check," Catherine shrugged as she sat down in the chairs opposite of the bed, swinging her legs over the armrests.

"Blackmail," I rolled my eyes as I tipped the cup towards me in order to gain a better look at the thick grayish liquid. "There are white floatie things in my drink," I pointed out, watching them roll around as I tilted the cup.

"Those are the bananas," Catherine laughed lightly, "Just drink it already, it won't be that bad."

"Easy for you to say," I looked up at her, "You don't have to taste it."

She raised an eyebrow, and I got the drift of things. Apparently I wasn't going to get out of drinking it, and so I raised the cup to my lips, figuring it would best to get it over with sooner rather than later.

I wasn't too far off. Not only was the liquid horrid tasting, it was thick and sticky, not exactly the easiest thing to swallow. I managed to drain the cup in one shot though, grimacing as I swallowed the last bit. I was deeply thankful that Catherine had a glass of water ready for me afterwards, and despite her caution to drink slowly, I drained the second cup.

I let my head fall back against the pillow, my eyes closed as I tried to wipe the lingering taste from my mouth. I could hear Catherine laughing quietly, and action that prompted me to open my eyes to stare at her.

"It's not funny," I pointed out, "No wonder I don't like hospitals."

"I know, I'm sorry," Catherine apologized quickly, holding up a hand. "You're just so funny to watch."

"I'm glad that I'm so amusing," I pointed out, "Can I see Sara now?"

Catherine glanced down at her watch, "Uhh, she'll be here in a few minutes. Hospital's releasing her this morning; she said she would be down when they were through with everything."

"So you mean to tell me that she was coming down regardless if I drank that stuff or not?"

Catherine nodded, "Yeah, pretty much."

I frowned, my eyes narrowing, "You are evil," I stated lightly.

"Who's evil?"

The new voice in the doorway was unmistakable. I knew it was her the moment those words left her mouth. Still, just seeing her there was overwhelming. If I was dreaming now, then I definitely didn't want to wake up.

Catherine stood then, nodding to the both of us. "I'm going to get some lunch, then I'll be back to take you home," she turned to Sara, who in return nodded her thanks. Then it was only the two of us and Sara walked in the rest of the way slowly, I noticed that she was limping slightly, but it didn't seem to bother her as she sat down on the bed.

"I don't know how you do it," she told me quietly, "I've been asking for the last several days to come down here and see you, and no one would even listen. Than all you have to ask once and show those puppy dog eyes of yours and everyone caves in."

I would have laughed, would have joked that it was my charm, or something along those lines, but I couldn't even smile then. Instead I only reached out to grab her hand, and held in my own, confirming that she was indeed here with me.

"I'm glad you're okay," I finally managed to say, giving her hand a small squeeze.

"Me too," she nodded in return, "Well, glad that you're okay as well. Every time I asked Nick about you he would just say that you were sleeping most of the time."

"Have you heard anymore about our suspect?" I asked wanting to change the subject. I didn't want to talk about what had all happened with me more than I had too. Sara shrugged, still watching me.

"Other than he's still out there. We're lucky Greg, we really are."

I nodded in agreement. I knew that now, it wasn't everyday that you were given a second chance at life. And I as I lay there, holding her hand in mine, unwilling to let go in fear that I would lose her again, I knew that this day was mine to take. This was my second chance, and I wasn't going to let it slip through my fingers again.

"Sara," I muttered quietly. She glanced at me, and I was surprised at the light in her eyes as she answered.

"Yeah," she smiled, still holding my hand.

"I um…I like you," I stuttered lightly, embarrassed now at what I was saying, and tried desperately to make some sense. "I mean, I really….I uh…well."

She laughed, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. God I loved that laugh. It was something about her laugh that always made me feel better, even if she was laughing at me. "It's okay Greg," she grinned, "I know."

I blinked, looking up at her. "You do?"

She nodded, "Yeah, it's not that hard to see."

"Oh," I commented quietly, looking away. "Well…do you maybe want to go somewhere…maybe, I don't know…"

"Sure," she smiled as I looked back up at her.

"Really?" It was surprising, honestly it was. I hadn't expected her to say yes straight out. I had expected her to think about it, to tell me that she didn't know, the she would have to see.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I would like that. Dinner, maybe a movie…after you get out of here and start feeling better that is."

I shrugged lightly. "We can have decapitated banana slugs and watch the history channel," I offered up, grinning as she grimaced, her face scrunching up.

"I think I'll pass up on that one."

"It's a once in a lifetime deal," I laughed softly, "Not everyone can get that you know."

She nodded, but still refused the offer. It wasn't much longer till Catherine returned, and although I hated to see her leave, the simple thought that she was alive had lightened my spirits. On top of that, Sara saying yes made my day even better.

**The End**

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**  
And that's all folks!**

**For this one at least, Major thanks once again to all my reviewers, I hoped that you really enjoyed it, it was a difficult one to write for me. **

**I'll prb do a small short story off of this one that follows up on why no second cop showed up, and tracking the killer and such, but it'll be done in third person, not first. No idea on when it will be up though.**


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